


Scenes from an Inquisition - Birthday

by Schattenriss



Series: The Contours of Shadows [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Birthday, Complete, Eventual Romance, Flirting, Hiding, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 12:23:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9181453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schattenriss/pseuds/Schattenriss
Summary: An evening at Skyhold that no one else ever knew about. Takes place early in Inquisition, not long after they've arrived at Skyhold. Dorian and Kai are still in the early stages of their romance.





	

**Author's Note:**

> If you're following the timeline, this actually takes place near the end of Chapter 9 of _Between You and Me_ (the fourth in the series), but it can be read before, during, or after that story.
> 
> As always, feedback is welcomed!

**_27 Harvestmere, Dragon 9:41_ **

In the basement of Skyhold was a small, dusty library full of large, dusty books. It also had a large, comfortable desk and a nice, sturdy door. I’d discovered it not long after we’d set up residence there. It was the antithesis of my vast, airy quarters at the top of the massive fortress and that was why I liked it.

I knew I wasn’t the only one who’d discovered it, but it seemed I was the only one who thought it an attractive place to spend time, so it became one of my hiding places. I cleaned it up, secreted a container for drinks and the like underneath the far corner of the desk, and installed a semi-permanent illusion spell at the doorway to make it look like all the cobwebs that had been there when I found it were still present.

I was seated behind the desk, leafing through some sort of illuminated manuscript written in an ancient form of Nevarran I couldn’t begin to fathom. I wasn’t worried about what it said, was just enjoying the gorgeously macabre illustrations. Whoever had drawn them had a vividly twisted imagination, but I could also see a mad sort of humour in them. I was drinking a bottle of beer (one of several I had brought down with me) and for once felt almost at peace. 

The door opened.

I felt a moment of dismayed panic that interfered with my casting the _don’t notice me_ spell I’d always planned on if this situation arose. 

The intruder stepped into the room, batting at the non-existent cobwebs for a moment while he closed the door softly. He turned, took another step that moved him past the spell and slowly grinned. “An illusion! And nicely constructed. Who-” he focused past the entrance for the first time and if anything, the grin got wider. “Kai? What in the name of the Black City are you doing down here, and hiding behind an illusion?”

Well, if I had to be caught by anyone, the Tevinter mage would be my first choice. We’d been flirting shamelessly with each other practically since we first met. “Dorian!” I didn’t have to fake the pleasure in my voice. “Come in. You said it: I’m hiding.”

“Down here in this -er- not so dusty library?”

I set the manuscript down carefully. “You’re not the only one in this place that likes books, you know.”

“Aren’t you worried that your loyal followers might be looking for you?”

“Not particularly, no.” I drank some beer, stifled a burp. “They’re who I’m hiding from.”

“Am I included in that?” He sauntered  to the desk and perched on the edge.

“I believe I can make an exception in your case,” I said with a smile. “Drink?”

“Beer?” He made a great show of thinking about it. “It’s unusually _pedestrian_ , but I suppose it’s appropriate when one is hiding in a basement. I trust it’s at least marginally palatable?”

“Anderfels, I think,” I said, handing him one.

He took it, eyed it critically. “Not a bad brewer, this one. As long as it’s not Orlesian.”

I made a face. “Please, I have _some_ standards.”  I looked around the small library. “Unfortunately, there’s not much else in the way of seating here. Unless you want to clear a larger space on the desk.”

He gave me a sultry smile, “One might think you had ulterior motives behind that suggestion.”

“Hm. One might, indeed,” I smiled back.

He moved a few stacks of books neatly aside. “Well then. I shall perch on your desk like a saucy secretary in one of the Randy Dowager’s tales.” He perched, somehow making it look comfortable. “Based on that illusion spell of yours, I’m surprised we haven’t run across one another down here previously.”

“Do you come here often?” I blurted out, then mentally cursed myself for sounding so… ladies’ luncheon-y.

He bit back a chuckle, “On occasion. The upstairs library gets a bit… busy at times.”

“Skyhold’s a bit… busy,” I said. It came out a little more sour than I’d intended. I finished off my beer and got another, chilling it with a small ice spell.

“One would think you’re not delighted to be the centre of attention,” he said.

I snorted. “You’re welcome to it. It was never a goal of mine.”

“If you don’t mind my making an observation, you seem a bit cross. Should I leave?”

“No!” I know I yelped it, panicked that he might actually leave. I felt a bit stupid again but wasn’t about to let him know that. “I mean, your leaving isn’t going to improve my mood. I’d… rather like the company.”

“You looked like you were set up for the duration.” He didn’t quite make it a question, but it was nonetheless.

“Yes, well… I was planning on hiding down here for the remainder of the evening. A present to myself.”

“Really? What’s the occasion?”

I honestly didn’t know I was going to say it; I certainly had no plans to. “It’s my birthday.”

He looked a bit surprised. “And you’re hiding down here in a dusty library? Whyever for?  Shouldn’t we be having some sort of celebration upstairs, with people and pastries and fizzy drinks?”

“Because it’s _my_ birthday,” I snapped.

He recoiled slightly at the venom in my voice, eyes wide. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. That makes you angry?”

I sighed, slouching deeper in my chair. “I… yes. It does. If I go up there, anything they do isn’t going to be because they think of me as a friend or like me personally."

_I_ do," he said.

That made me smile. “Yes, well, you’ve also made an effort to actually get to know me. Some of them are starting to become friends, but do you have any idea how many of them won’t even call me by name?”

“I hadn’t actually noticed,” he admitted. “I shall have to pay attention to that.”

“I guarantee, Dorian, if I were to go up there and say something, any celebration is going to be for the Herald Inquisitor, and it’s not his birthday. _He_ was born that day at Justinia’s Conclave when _this_ thing embedded itself in my hand.” I waved my left hand with its mark in his general direction.

He smoothed his moustache, fiddling with the ends. “That… actually makes sense. Does anyone here know?”

I shook my head, laughed a little bark of a laugh. “No one ever asked.”

“How old are you? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“I don’t mind. As of today, I’m thirty-five.” I toasted him with my bottle and took a drink.

“So you were born in… oh-six? I didn’t know you were that much older than me.”

“How much older am I?”

“The world was first blessed with my presence in nine: eleven, so you’re _nearly_ five years older,” he said with exaggerated awe.

“Fine, rub it in.”

“Is that an invitation?”

I grinned, “Would you like it to be?”

He cocked his head to one side, looking at me curiously. “So you really don’t want a party?”

“Let them have one for the Inquisitor when the time comes. That’s who they’re all here for.”

He hopped off the desk, instructing me, “Wait here,” and made a great show of skulking out the door.

I hadn’t been going to go any farther than the nearby washroom anyway, so his command was easy to follow. I wondered what he was up to and devoutly hoped he wasn’t going to show back up with an entourage. Just himself… naked… would be enough. I tried half-heartedly to banish that thought from my mind, but was enjoying it a bit too much to banish it entirely.

Enough time passed that my idle thoughts had gained quite a bit of graphic detail when I heard Dorian talking to someone just outside the door. It worried me, because I couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, but I needn’t have been concerned. He opened the door, brought a second chair in that he set next to the desk. Next was a basket containing more bottles of beer and one of wine that I assumed was for him since I can’t stand the stuff. Next he ferried in enough assorted finger food that we could both make a meal out of it and lastly half a berry pie. “They didn’t have anything festive or cake-like, so I had to improvise,” he shrugged as he set it down. “Perhaps you could help move a few of these piles of books?”

I cleared the desk of everything but the giant tome that was too heavy to bother with. There were already stacks of books everywhere, so a few more weren’t going to matter.

Dorian looked around the room critically. “Better, but the atmosphere is all wrong. Not festive at all. Now, let me see…” He tapped his index finger against his upper lip and slowly smiled. “This ought to do the trick…” He cast a series of the same small spell and as he did, colourful orbs of light formed and floated up to the ceiling, stationing themselves around the perimeter of the room. I’ve got to hand it to him–they were very pretty and gave the room some added depth.

I know I was smiling bemusedly. “Dorian… what is all this?”

He closed the door and cast a small ward on it to keep it shut. “This is me respecting your wishes… to a point.” 

He sat on the chair and worked the cork out of his wine with a _pop_. He fished a glass out of the basket, poured and gave it an appreciative sniff before setting it down. “Lovely vintage. It really is a pity you don’t like wine. _Now_ ,” he said with mock sternness, “I understand your feelings but this _is_ your birthday, and I, for one, shall be committing the 27th of Harvestmere—that’s Frumentum back home—to memory. And you are going to be graced with my company for as long as you’re willing to put up with me. So,” he raised his glass in a toast and looked at me expectantly until I joined him. 

I took a drink and said, “You realize you might be down here for quite some time.”

“That’s why I took the precaution of acquiring fuel as well as celebratory  pastry. Oh! and one other thing: neither one of us is permitted to speak of the Inquisition, rifts, Corypheus, Andraste or anything else pertaining the reason we’ve all come to this ghastly cold little corner of the world.”

“Agreed,” I said with heartfelt enthusiasm.

“Now,” he rubbed his hands together briskly, “Is there anything else? I’m afraid I don’t have a proper gift, seeing as the closest shops are some days’ ride away.”

I looked at him appraisingly. “If it’s not too forward to request a gift, I can think of one.”

He smiled slowly, eyes bright and amused. “I adore forward. What would you like?”

I stood and said, “Come here.”

He did as I asked, setting his hands lightly on either side of my waist. I ran my hands from his shoulders down to his hips. “We’ve been playing at this for some time,” I said, “which is fine, but I’d really like to get one honest kiss from you.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Just one?”

“At least one,” I amended.

“I believe I can do that.” 

I pulled him to me and kissed him and this time there was nothing playful about it. He responded in kind (in fact, it nearly edged on competitive on both our parts, but there’s a great deal to be said for that sort of competition). His hands started to creep under my shirt, but I pulled away, a trifle breathless and ignoring the parts that were screaming it was madness to stop now.

His eyes widened. “No?”

I grinned. “No. Believe me, I’d love to, but this isn’t how I want to. Not in here and not forevermore remembering _and then I had him on a narrow, dusty desk amidst the canapes_.”

“I admit you have a point. That’s something you’d do on the fourth day of a week-long debauch.” He paused, stroking his moustache, “In fact, I think I may have.”

I leaned against the desk. “Well, hopefully this doesn’t terrify you, but I think enough of you and of what could potentially be _us_ that I’d rather do things right. Maybe even inject a little romanticism into things. I’ve never had a proper relationship and I’d like to see what one’s like.”

He gave me an unreadable look. “You are the most fascinating man.”

I had no idea what he meant, so I said nothing.

“A proper relationship, you say. With me.” He smiled; a soft, genuine smile that others rarely saw, “I haven’t the slightest how to go about such a thing, but I think I might like that.” He closed the distance between us and kissed me one more time before sitting back down to take a drink of wine.

I followed suit, re-cooling my beer with a small ice spell.

“Oh!” Dorian looked at me brightly, “Before we get caught up in the excitement of this evening and the smug knowledge that no one can reach us here, I almost forgot the most important thing.”

“And that would be what?” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“Just the one thing no one else gets to say—Happy birthday, Kai.”


End file.
